The birth of passion
by TenTenD
Summary: The world around them spins and spins, out of their control, out of their hands. But the race of Men does not seek to control all. The priority is their own lives. So comes to be told the tale of Faramir and his lady fair. What the war had torn must now be rebuilt. And something new must emerge as well. drabble set
1. i

Voronwë regarded his daughter, Nimwen, with a guarded look. She was his youngest, the last of his children. As such he'd left Gondor for Ithilien in hopes of building a future for her there. The aged man had to admit that she had done well in befriending the Lady of the elves. But the time had come for her to look further ahead. "My daughter, there is a matter I must discuss with you," Voronwë told his child.

"Father, you have my attention." Nimwen sat before him with expectation shining in her eyes. It would be a lie to say she was not aware of what her father wished to say to her. Yet she knew it to be the way of the world thus did not shy away from it. "What is it you wish to make me aware of?"

"Nimwen, the time for childish pursuits has come to pass. You are a woman now in all but deed," the father started. "Your mother would have taken pride in seeing you so. But she is not here, and I am left with the task." A duty he did not relish in, but one he would fulfil with dignity.

Nimwen bowed her head in acknowledgement. She knew well what would follow. The time had come for her to finally hear the name of the man who would take her into his house. Voronwë brought her hand in his and the eyes of the young woman rose to him once more. "Father?" She could read the pleased look on his face well enough to know he though himself a victor in that instant.

"The Steward of Gondor himself has come to me with this request," the man told her, clearly pleased. "He asks for my permission to court you."

With those words, Nimwen's world tipped off its axis. A deafening silence followed the statement, young Nimwen too shocked to utter one single sound. The Steward of Gondor? Why? She could not understand. "What have you said to him?" The man had barely even looked upon her at all.

"I have accepted." Thus he's sealed the fate of his child. "It is grand a thing, my darling. He is a good man, of strong character. His family and lineage is a noble one. Should you receive his suit, you will be provided for your entire life. He offers security." How important a thing that was in times such as theirs.

What of love? Did he offer that also? Nimwen had seen the Steward but few times. And always, always his eyes had been darkened with shadows she knew not the origin of. Such a man scared her. Those eyes reflected an unhappy soul. But maybe not unkind. It would be unjust to refuse the man a chance. "Since all had been spoken for, I have to honour those words." If she deemed him unfit, she would refuse. If not, the Valar had made it so and she would live the rest of her days at his side.

Faramir was his given name, Nimwen recalled. The Lady Éowyn had spoken highly of him. And more than once had she seen the Steward look upon the Lady with a certain light in his eyes. It seemed nothing less than strange for him to ask after her. Yet she was compelled to offer this chance. After all, what evil could come from one harmless meeting? As her father had pointed out, the Steward was a man who held on tightly to his honour, so he'd proven time and time again.

If nothing else a friendship could be wrought. Nimwen did like to be optimistic when such a possibility applied to the situation. Thankfully at the moment she could be just so. The Steward of Gondor wished to court her. She wished to know more of him. All seemed very fine.

* * *

_As I promised, here you have the first drabble of the series centered around Faramir and his lady love. Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as I liked writing it._


	2. ii

Nimwen watched the thin tendrils, green and raw, with tiny leafs attached to them. She restrained the impulse to reach out and touch her fingers to the greenery. One small movement on her part could dislodge the intricate pattern that had been woven by nature in many years. The young woman leaned in to take an even closer look. It was a beautiful sight, one she would no longer see come fall and then frost season. All those leafs would turn golden, and the vines would become brittle and crumble in the damp and cold. Harsh blowing wind would rip them away from the home they'd made on the tone wall.

Unaware that a foreign pair of eyes held her image, Nimwen continued to observe the plant to her heart's content. Assured of the privacy her father's gardens offered, she had not thought it possible that anyone would ever watch her undetected. It was forgivable, of course, for she'd not long had the gardens and as such had not learned all its secrets. Thus Nimwen gave all of her attention to the flowering vegetation in lieu of the unexpected guest who was carefully studying her as one might a scroll. Indeed, Nimwen was unconscious of all scrutiny, free to behave as she would if alone.

Faramir took the time to thoroughly analyse the woman in his line of sight. He'd seen her on more than one occasion while conducting business with the elves. A human just like himself, Nimwen had formed a friendship of sorts with the woman he'd once loved. In fact, that was how Faramir had come to notice Voronwë's daughter. It was her closeness to Éowyn that made him take interest in her. More than once he had witnessed a kind gesture or a warm look. It made him curious to know more about her.

Now a Steward for many moons, he had to settle his own life. Understandably he had need of a spouse if he hoped to do so. Nimwen seemed to be a likely candidate. She was a young woman that came from a good family and, as far as he could tell, was in possession of a sweet disposition and calm demeanour. If upon further acquaintance, these impressions of him held, Faramir would gladly entwine his life with hers. A woman such as her was no doubt a companion worth having, Faramir reckoned. And so it was that he had decided to court her.

Love had little to do with his choice; the man knew it well enough. Despite that he believed that they could have a successful union. Strong affection was not paramount, as his parents had demonstrated. His father had been astern person who showed little emotion to the woman he married and even less so to his second son. Boromir had been his father's favourite, and Faramir had grown in his brother's shadow. However, both had been aware growing up that their parents kept a well defined distance between them. From a young age, Faramir hoped for love, but prepared himself to live without it.

A songbird cut through his thoughts, making Faramir turn his eyes to the small being. It also attracted the attention of Nimwen. Whirling around, she came to face an unexpected sight. Nimwen's breath caught in her throat, more out of surprise than anything else. Yet she could see the sun rays, slithering through the foliage, as they touched upon her visitor. A smile slid on her face without her realising and Nimwen made no sound. It was rather like witnessing a deer. One would always feel the need to move slowly as not to startle the observed individual. Nimwen experienced the inexplicable urge to call out to him. But she didn't. It was not often that a man allowed himself to be caught unaware and she would not waste her opportunity.


End file.
